Author: Lani
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: so in payment for getting reviews last time, i get no more? none at all? oh well. i had to re-write parts of this 'cause i kept changing my mind over certain, uuuh, aspects.... **shut up lani shut up!**
*muah ha* harry galore! 9 pages on my word program with real small margins!
Please R/R! :)
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Chapter Five
Harry was fifteen today. He knew that, but with the Dursleys it was as if he'd never been born (which was how they'd have preferred it), therefore, in all the thirteen years he had previously spent with them his birthday had barely been acknowledged, if at all. So, it was no surprise that, on July 31st, he awoke with no great anticipation of presents or parties, rather the dull realisation in the back of his mind that he was another year older.
Obviously, he was quite startled when, upon opening his eyes, a very familiar red head and female friend popped into his blurry vision.
The first thought that came to his head was Voldemort, he must've attacked -that was the only reason they could be there.
"Ron? 'Mione? Whasrong?"
"Nothing's wrong! It's your birthday, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, passing him his glasses, which he accepted gratefully.
"It's eleven thirty! How could you sleep in so long today? Don't tell us you forgot!"
"Uh," he blinked as the room came into focus, finding two grinning faces beaming down at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that now it was definitely nothing to do with Voldemort -otherwise they would certainly not have been grinning. Unless he had been killed by some freak accident, like being trampled by a herd of stampeding elephants or something in his sleep, which, of course, was extremely unlikely though not at all unwelcome in Harry's view.
Ron ordered, "Get dressed quick!" and pulled Hermione from the room, leaving him to find some clothes and with his strange thoughts and visions of Voldemort under a stack of purple elephants.
Caught between amused and bewildered, Harry went about foraging for clothing. After digging under Ron's bed for a pair of socks, and tightening a belt (he really should get new clothes one day) so that Dudley's ridiculously large trousers didn't fall down around his ankles the minute he stood up, Harry edged out of the bedroom into the cramped hallway, where Ron and Hermione were still grinning.
"What's going on?"
"Come on!"
They proceeded to pull him down the stairs as fast as possible, without one or all of them ending up in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
Several landings later, they reached the ground floor of The Burrow, and Harry found himself being blindfolded and guided round and round in circles (being now thoroughly confused, he doubted whatever was happening involved pinning any tails on posters of donkeys) until a door was opened, the blindfold lifted, a shout of 'surprise' and Harry found himself the star of a surprise party.
Not being able to help the reaction, not that he wanted to, he grinned the biggest grin of all his life thus far. He'd never had a party before.
In front of him, all wearing brightly coloured party hats, stood Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Ginny and Professor Lupin.
"Happy Birthday, Harry."
All he could do was stand, stare, and grin stupidly.
One by one, he received gifts, birthday presents, from everyone except Professor Lupin, and quickly realised he was blushing worse that a bride and giving Ron's Best Blushes a run for their money. After having cut a large, chocolate covered and fudge filled birthday cake topped with fifteen candles that sung 'Happy Birthday' out of key and sounded remarkably like Robin Williams, from that movie Mrs. Doubtfire, Harry was gestured outside to the back porch by Professor Lupin.
"Snuffles said have a great birthday and that he's sorry he couldn't come -Dumbledore doesn't think it would be wise for him to be out in the open too much now and wouldn't let him come. Anyway," he reached into a pocket and resized a brightly coloured rectangle, "this is from both of us."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Call me Remus: I'm not your teacher anymore, Harry."
Harry nodded, not entirely sure he would be able to do that right away. Instead, he ran his fingers over the stripy red and silver paper, carefully pulling it off whatever was concealed inside.
A leather bound album. A photo album, entitled 'This Was Us, Then'. Turning to the first page, he found a photo of Sirius, Remus, and his mum and dad smiling up at him, sitting in the Gryffindor common room.
"You've got one of your parents after Hogwarts, but you didn't have any of us at school, when we were your age, so…"
"It's brilliant Profes, Remus. I love it." Page after page of his parents; of Sirius; of Remus; of a few who he didn't recognise… and not a single one of Wormtail.
The rest of the day was spent doing random things: playing Quidditch, apple bobbing, and many other things, which included pinning a tail on a dragon (not a donkey), and so much food that Harry wondered how long they'd been planning this, and where they'd hidden everything. All in all though, he didn't have a single complaint -for one day Harry was just Harry. And that was how he liked it.
Falling into bed later that night, and exchanging 'g'nights' with Ron, Harry was asleep minutes after his head hit the below. For the first time since the end of his fourth year, the end of the TriWizard tournament, Harry slept contentedly, dreaming of flying motorcycles and laughter.
*
The end of the summer eventually arrived, however much Ron and Harry wished that it would just repeat in a magic time-loop, and so, the day Harry dreaded and loved was less than twenty-four hours away (dreaded because now he had his OWLs and loved because, well, it was Hogwarts.), and August the thirty-first was upon the world.
Ron groaned, opening the door to his room with a punch and a sharp kick, "Mum says we've got to start packing our trunks, unless we want snails for dinner."
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, throwing open his trunk and searching for belts in haste.
"You know Hermione," said Ron, "She packed -"
"Last week, when we bought our things." Hermione already sat cross-legged on Ron's bed, "Honestly, do you two leave everything until the last minute?"
"Yes." They answered in unison, causing Hermione to shake her head.
Ron threw in his books, glaring at her, "Are you just going to sit there and watch us pack?"
"Yes." she said simply, "What are those?"
"These?" He held up a set of robes of the darkest blue.
"Yes, those dress robes, where did you get them?"
Ron grinned, folding them neatly and placing them in his trunk, "Fred and George gave 'em to me, I checked for hexes and curses for ages, but I couldn't find any. And no, I don't know where they got the money: they won't tell me."
Harry kept his mouth shut, knowing full well where they got the money. After winning the TriWizard Tournament last year, he hadn't felt like keeping the thousand galleons prize money -too many bad and unhappy memories were attached with it, as well as the guilt that he was alive and Cedric was dead, and since Amos Diggory and his wife also refused the prize money, he gave it to Fred and George to start their joke shop with, as long as they promised to buy Ron some new dress robes.
"I guess you don't know either, Harry?"
"Not a clue," he lied, "Have you seen my Standard Book of Spells? I can't find it."
Ron reached under a pile of t-shirts, "Here."
"Thanks."
Ten minutes later, when everything was packed and ready for the next day, Mrs. Weasley called for Harry and Hermione -they had letters.
"Wonder what they are?" Ron mused, following her down the flights of steps, "We had our school lists ages ago."
"Just don't become a prefect Harry,"
"I don't think our poor hearts could take another one spending the summers with us."
Fred and George had emerged from their bedroom; grim looks etched into their identical faces as they clutched their hearts in pain.
George gasped in pretend heart spasms, "You wouldn't want to be responsible for our deaths would you?"
"How could you be so heartless?"
Mrs. Weasley fixed the pair with a look to freeze the Sahara desert and passed Harry and Hermione their letters with pride.
They were from Hogwarts.
"Oh holy -"
"Ron!"
Held in their hands were two shiny, silver, prefect badges.
Harry shoved the badge in his pocket, whereas Hermione was looking very thoughtful, holding the badge like it was the Queen's Crown Jewels.
"You know what this means," she said, "We'll have enforce the school rules, be model students -"
"Hermione," Ron cut in, "You already are a model student."
"Well, yes, but -"
"No buts about it, you always have been,"
"And always will be." Harry finished, having finally extricated himself from the stunned reverie he'd momentarily fallen into.
Fred and George were still staring at him slack-jawed; finally, they managed to stutter,
"How, how could you?"
"You promised!"
"Traitor!"
"You two can set the table! Go!" she said, pointing a finger to the table threateningly.
*
"Are you two going to get up? Or am I going to have to owl the school and say you were too lazy to go?"
Mrs. Weasleys voice rang through Harry's subconscious like a gong at midnight. Groggily, he threw his hand out to find his glasses and cast the cover off reluctantly.
Ron was also dragging himself from dreams, and by the sounds of it, he wasn't overly happy about it either.
September the first had finally rolled around, the air outside was grasping at the autumn season, holding a faint mist above the ground.
Fishing a trainer from underneath Ron's bed, they walked in sleepy silence down the staircases, joined shortly by equally quiet Ginny and Hermione.
In the kitchen sat Fred and George eating scrambled eggs on toast, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, and two women that Harry had never seen before.
One had blonde hair cut short around her face, and the other brown hair falling to just above her shoulders.
"Nice of you to join us, I'm Arabella Figg, but if you call me that I may have to hex you, so just call me Bella, and this is Yesminda Beyan." The brown-haired woman, Bella, said when they entered.
"Yesi, only my mother calls me Yesminda."
"They're here to take you to Platform nine and three quarters." Mr. Weasley explained,
"It's a dangerous world now." Yesi said, accepting the slices of toast offered.
"You mean you think Voldemort might attack," said Harry simply, noticing how Ron still flinched at his name.
"In a word? Yes."
Hermione awoke from her stupor, "He hasn't done anything all summer, why would he start now?"
"How do you know he's been keeping quiet?" asked Bella, "By what you've read in the Prophet?"
Everyone, save Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded; their mouths full of either scrambled eggs or orange juice.
"Don't believe everything you read, kids." Yesi said, looking at the latest paper disdainfully, "According to their articles, Dumbledore is a crackpot not suitable to teach at Hogwarts, or even give his opinion. Do you believe that?"
The unanimous reply was "No."
"So why do you believe that Voldemort has done nothing but sit on his butt all summer?"
Harry blinked when she said Voldemort's name, but, when he thought about it, if they were in the Order like he suspected, it would make sense for them not to fear saying it.
Meanwhile, Hermione was agreeing with Yesi and Bella, Ron was talking to Fred and George in excited, hushed tones that Harry couldn't quite make out and motioning for Ginny to come over, they continued to speak some more, a little cloud of red haired children; when they reached a decision, they turned to Bella.
"The Ministry are telling them what to write, aren't they?" said Ron expectantly, "I mean, for a few days the Prophet was reporting on the suspected return of You-Know-Who, and they just completely changed their views, like all of a sudden."
"Good to know you lot notice things, at least you're not staring blind at your connection to the Wizard World," Bella smiled, "and to answer you question, yes, basically. Fudge decided that you, Harry, must be, I believe his words were 'delinquent juvenile looking for attention'?"
"Yeah, I think that was it." Yesi supplied.
Harry groaned, "He really doesn't like me, does he?"
"No, not really: he likes you about as much as he trusts Dumbledore."
"So not at all then?"
Yesi beamed, "Got it in one, Harry."
"Now, where was I?" Bella continued, not looking bothered at the sidetrack the conversation took.
"Fudge." Ginny offered.
"The Prophet." George said, as he started on a second helping.
"Oh yes, Fudge told the Prophet that Dumbledore was not to be trusted or listened to, and that all articles had to be approved by the Ministry before they were printed."
"Don't forget the extras -about how wonderful everything is and how the economy hasn't been effected by the rumours." said Mr. Weasley dryly, "Now, I bought everyone's trunks down last night and shrunk them," he pulled out six miniature trunks from his robes, "And by the sounds of it, the taxi's are here."
Sure enough, there was an angry honking sound from outside.
Mrs. Weasley went into override mode immediately, muttering about talking too long as she ushered everyone into jackets ad pushing another piece of buttered toast into their hands and bags with their lunches,
"Come on! We don't need you all missing the train!"
Five fun-filled minutes later, during which Fred and George, somehow, managed to sneak two suspicious looking boxes under their coats whilst Mrs. Weasley was shepherding Ginny into one of the taxies, and Crookshanks through a tantrum inside his basket. In the end, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Yesi and Mr. Weasley went in min-bus like taxi, and Ginny, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley and Bella went in the other.
"Are you an auror?" Hermione asked.
Yesi smiled, "Yes, so's Bella, and we all hate Fudge, so, we can all get along together."
The rest of the trip was uninteresting; Mr. Weasley started talking about telephones, avidly asking Harry and Hermione about them, and whether or not they thought it would be a good idea to buy one in the future; then he moved on to plugs, and Ron buried his head in his hands.
Bella went through to Platform Nine and Three Quarters first with Hermione and Ginny, then Yesi and Mr. Weasley with Harry and Ron, and at last, Fred and George with Mrs. Weasley.
"Have a good year," she said, hugging each one of her children, "And don't get in any trouble," she looked pointedly at the twins, "or looking for trouble." As she hugged Harry and Ron, then Hermione, "Study and listen to your teachers -OWL's are important."
A quick symphony of, "Yes Mrs. Weasley." and "Of course mum." before excuses were made and they all disappeared, leaving the adults to watch.
"Do you really think You-Know-Who is going to attack here, with so many people here?" Ron asked as they loaded on their fully re-sized trunks.
"No," said Harry, "But they think Deatheaters might, I bet."
"I suppose."
"Speaking of nasty things," Hermione motioned to behind Harry, where Draco Malfoy was sneering at them, his usual two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, at his sides.
"I'm surprised you're here, Potter," he sniggered, "aren't you afraid that the Dark Lord will find you."
The three friends gripped their wands.
Harry didn't hesitate in his retort -he'd had enough of Malfoy's arrogance, and this year he wouldn't take any of it,
"The only thing that frightens me, Malfoy, is your face. Besides, I thought the common thinking was that I'm a liar, Dumbledore is a crackpot, and that Voldemort isn't back. Or does your dad give you inside information on his master?"
Malfoy glared daggers, and the living boulders behind him cracked their knuckles angrily, "You aught to be careful what you say, or else -"
"Or else what, Mr. Malfoy?" Yesi had emerged from the crowd so seamlessly that none present even noticed when she arrived. Malfoy said nothing, merely sneered again, turned up his nose, and stalked off.
"Hmm, just like his damned father." she commented as the trio tucked their wands away. "Now, would you three kindly get on the train?"
The whistle blew right at that moment, and Fred pushed open a door behind them calling,
"Are you getting on, or what?"
*
As they collapsed into their trademark carriage, the scarlet red steam engine started to move, and they were on their way to another year at Hogwarts.
Harry couldn't have been happier: the only downside to being back at school was the homework that could never be dodged, and detentions that he would inevitably receive through one-way or another. On the upside, there was Quidditch, Hagrid, the massive feasts and Frequent Naps, also entitled History of Magic.
The train ride quickly dissolved into games of Exploding Snap, snacking on sweets and debating what Ron might ask for, because he still hadn't decided, and was still feeling guilty about the money issue.
It wasn't long before Neville nervously peeped around the door into their compartment and timidly requested if he could sit with them, because the others were full. They, of course, obliged, only to watch the round-faced boy jump up a moment later,
"Trevor!" His pet toad croaked angrily from his back pocket, after being sat on and nearly squashed to death, Harry didn't blame it, and jumped onto the floor by Hermione's feet.
Ginny was the next late arrival, having spent a few hours with her age-mates, she felt it was time to sit with her other friends, and closer to a certain boy of her dreams. She also had a message for Harry and Hermione,
"They want you two in the Prefects carriage for ten minutes, something about passwords…"
Harry rose slowly, not entirely sure if all these Prefect duties were a good thing -he didn't want to have to be going to meetings when he could be practising Quidditch or messing about with Ron.
Thankfully, it didn't last long -literally, all that happened was that the Head Girl and Boy gave Hermione and he the password for Gryffindor Tower, and a 'well done' for being made Prefects, and they left -only to see a certain Draco Malfoy swagger up to the compartment with Pansy Parkinson, both already in their school robes and both proudly showing off their shined-to-optimum-shininess Prefect badges.
Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and left as quickly as possible without smashing into anything, muttering under his breath, "That's just not right -you know he's going to use the power to be horrible to every other house."
"But there's nothing we can do about it, Harry, so just breathe, please?"
They thumped back into their seats, quickly filling all present in on the new password and terrible turn out of events in regard to Malfoy. Ron was disgusted, and expressed so in several words not appropriate to be repeated, and which made Hermione reach over and put a hand over his mouth.
It was at that moment that lunch was announced by the rattling of four small wheels and two click-clacking feet.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" said the elderly witch that pushed the food trolley stacked with delicious sweets like Cauldron Cakes, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties. Knowing full well that Ron had a bottomless pit in place of where his stomach should be, and that he, Harry, did enjoy anything sweet (he, personally, blamed a certain tooth), he bought at least five of everything on the trolley, to supplement Ron, Hermione's and his Corned beef (actually, Ron had Turkey) sandwiches.
When Neville was munching on a Pumpkin Pasty, and Ginny on an Ice mouse, and while Harry was partway through what tasted like a broccoli bean, Ron finished his fifth part of his meal (so far it consisted of two Cauldron Cakes, one Ice mouse, and two Turkey sandwiches)
"Where're those Chocolate Frogs? Pass us one Neville, cheers… It might be Agrippa, I still need her…"
"Honestly, Ron."
"What?" he asked his mouth now full of a Chocolate Frog.
"Manners."
"Why? I'm not a Prefect, and anyway, how else would you eat a 'Frog? With a knife and fork, or what?"
As was predictable, the entire compartment burst into uncontrollable bouts of laughter, either at what Ron had said, or the Look Hermione sent his way.
"Come on you two," said Ginny when she managed to regain her breath, "Don't start bickering now -school hasn't even started yet. Give Harry a chance, at least."
Harry decided to add his own two pence worth, "Yeah, give me a chance."
"You do get at each others throats sometimes." Neville piped up.
Any further admonishments or arguments were cut off Ron choking on the Chocolate Frog.
Several hours, games of Exploding Snap, Gobstones and I Spy later, a voice reverberated around the train, "Arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in ten minutes."
And none of them were in their school robes. Oh dear, thought Harry. The problem was easily solved, the girls left the carriage while the boys got changed, and the boys obligingly waited outside while the girls switched clothes.
The train pulled to a stop in the station with a muffled 'thud', and Harry made his way out.
Another year with Snape hating him because he and his father hated each other. Things could be worse; the evilest and most dangerous wizard in the world could want him dead.
Oh wait, he did.
He shook his head, since when did he get so sarcastic anyway?
"Harry?" Hermione questioned, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he looked up above everybody's heads, expecting to see the large form of his friend Hagrid, who was actually a half-giant and not so big simply because he swallowed a bottle of Skele-Grow when he was a kid (as Ron had thought), only to find that he was strangely missing. Harry blinked and re-checked, however unlikely it was that he had missed him, but only found Professor McGonagalls pointed hat instead.
"First Years this way!" cried Professor McGonagall, holding a lantern aloft, "First Years over here!"
The trio looked at each other, all thinking the same thing but not actually voicing it until they were in a carriage with somebody they didn't know.
"Where is he?" asked Ron, "You don't think…" he trailed off, realising they were in unknown company.
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. The 'hope he's alright' was a given. Now he had Hagrid to add to the least of people to worry about -as if Sirius wasn't enough, what with being an escaped ex-convict who was facing the Dementor's Kiss as soon as he was re-captured, which involved having your soul sucked out. Not pleasant. Now he had a missing Big Friendly Half-Giant to add to his list too. As well as the OWL's. Fun.
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Post A/N: *muah ha* it was the Prefect thing i couldn't decide on -first it was hermione and harry, then it was hermione and ron, then it was hermione and neville, and then it was hermione and ron.... until i decided on a later part of a certain plot and stuck with hermione and harry.
waddya think? like it? hate it? indifferent to it?
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: so in payment for getting reviews last time, i get no more? none at all? oh well. i had to re-write parts of this 'cause i kept changing my mind over certain, uuuh, aspects.... **shut up lani shut up!**
*muah ha* harry galore! 9 pages on my word program with real small margins!
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Chapter Five
Harry was fifteen today. He knew that, but with the Dursleys it was as if he'd never been born (which was how they'd have preferred it), therefore, in all the thirteen years he had previously spent with them his birthday had barely been acknowledged, if at all. So, it was no surprise that, on July 31st, he awoke with no great anticipation of presents or parties, rather the dull realisation in the back of his mind that he was another year older.
Obviously, he was quite startled when, upon opening his eyes, a very familiar red head and female friend popped into his blurry vision.
The first thought that came to his head was Voldemort, he must've attacked -that was the only reason they could be there.
"Ron? 'Mione? Whasrong?"
"Nothing's wrong! It's your birthday, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, passing him his glasses, which he accepted gratefully.
"It's eleven thirty! How could you sleep in so long today? Don't tell us you forgot!"
"Uh," he blinked as the room came into focus, finding two grinning faces beaming down at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that now it was definitely nothing to do with Voldemort -otherwise they would certainly not have been grinning. Unless he had been killed by some freak accident, like being trampled by a herd of stampeding elephants or something in his sleep, which, of course, was extremely unlikely though not at all unwelcome in Harry's view.
Ron ordered, "Get dressed quick!" and pulled Hermione from the room, leaving him to find some clothes and with his strange thoughts and visions of Voldemort under a stack of purple elephants.
Caught between amused and bewildered, Harry went about foraging for clothing. After digging under Ron's bed for a pair of socks, and tightening a belt (he really should get new clothes one day) so that Dudley's ridiculously large trousers didn't fall down around his ankles the minute he stood up, Harry edged out of the bedroom into the cramped hallway, where Ron and Hermione were still grinning.
"What's going on?"
"Come on!"
They proceeded to pull him down the stairs as fast as possible, without one or all of them ending up in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
Several landings later, they reached the ground floor of The Burrow, and Harry found himself being blindfolded and guided round and round in circles (being now thoroughly confused, he doubted whatever was happening involved pinning any tails on posters of donkeys) until a door was opened, the blindfold lifted, a shout of 'surprise' and Harry found himself the star of a surprise party.
Not being able to help the reaction, not that he wanted to, he grinned the biggest grin of all his life thus far. He'd never had a party before.
In front of him, all wearing brightly coloured party hats, stood Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Ginny and Professor Lupin.
"Happy Birthday, Harry."
All he could do was stand, stare, and grin stupidly.
One by one, he received gifts, birthday presents, from everyone except Professor Lupin, and quickly realised he was blushing worse that a bride and giving Ron's Best Blushes a run for their money. After having cut a large, chocolate covered and fudge filled birthday cake topped with fifteen candles that sung 'Happy Birthday' out of key and sounded remarkably like Robin Williams, from that movie Mrs. Doubtfire, Harry was gestured outside to the back porch by Professor Lupin.
"Snuffles said have a great birthday and that he's sorry he couldn't come -Dumbledore doesn't think it would be wise for him to be out in the open too much now and wouldn't let him come. Anyway," he reached into a pocket and resized a brightly coloured rectangle, "this is from both of us."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Call me Remus: I'm not your teacher anymore, Harry."
Harry nodded, not entirely sure he would be able to do that right away. Instead, he ran his fingers over the stripy red and silver paper, carefully pulling it off whatever was concealed inside.
A leather bound album. A photo album, entitled 'This Was Us, Then'. Turning to the first page, he found a photo of Sirius, Remus, and his mum and dad smiling up at him, sitting in the Gryffindor common room.
"You've got one of your parents after Hogwarts, but you didn't have any of us at school, when we were your age, so…"
"It's brilliant Profes, Remus. I love it." Page after page of his parents; of Sirius; of Remus; of a few who he didn't recognise… and not a single one of Wormtail.
The rest of the day was spent doing random things: playing Quidditch, apple bobbing, and many other things, which included pinning a tail on a dragon (not a donkey), and so much food that Harry wondered how long they'd been planning this, and where they'd hidden everything. All in all though, he didn't have a single complaint -for one day Harry was just Harry. And that was how he liked it.
Falling into bed later that night, and exchanging 'g'nights' with Ron, Harry was asleep minutes after his head hit the below. For the first time since the end of his fourth year, the end of the TriWizard tournament, Harry slept contentedly, dreaming of flying motorcycles and laughter.
*
The end of the summer eventually arrived, however much Ron and Harry wished that it would just repeat in a magic time-loop, and so, the day Harry dreaded and loved was less than twenty-four hours away (dreaded because now he had his OWLs and loved because, well, it was Hogwarts.), and August the thirty-first was upon the world.
Ron groaned, opening the door to his room with a punch and a sharp kick, "Mum says we've got to start packing our trunks, unless we want snails for dinner."
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, throwing open his trunk and searching for belts in haste.
"You know Hermione," said Ron, "She packed -"
"Last week, when we bought our things." Hermione already sat cross-legged on Ron's bed, "Honestly, do you two leave everything until the last minute?"
"Yes." They answered in unison, causing Hermione to shake her head.
Ron threw in his books, glaring at her, "Are you just going to sit there and watch us pack?"
"Yes." she said simply, "What are those?"
"These?" He held up a set of robes of the darkest blue.
"Yes, those dress robes, where did you get them?"
Ron grinned, folding them neatly and placing them in his trunk, "Fred and George gave 'em to me, I checked for hexes and curses for ages, but I couldn't find any. And no, I don't know where they got the money: they won't tell me."
Harry kept his mouth shut, knowing full well where they got the money. After winning the TriWizard Tournament last year, he hadn't felt like keeping the thousand galleons prize money -too many bad and unhappy memories were attached with it, as well as the guilt that he was alive and Cedric was dead, and since Amos Diggory and his wife also refused the prize money, he gave it to Fred and George to start their joke shop with, as long as they promised to buy Ron some new dress robes.
"I guess you don't know either, Harry?"
"Not a clue," he lied, "Have you seen my Standard Book of Spells? I can't find it."
Ron reached under a pile of t-shirts, "Here."
"Thanks."
Ten minutes later, when everything was packed and ready for the next day, Mrs. Weasley called for Harry and Hermione -they had letters.
"Wonder what they are?" Ron mused, following her down the flights of steps, "We had our school lists ages ago."
"Just don't become a prefect Harry,"
"I don't think our poor hearts could take another one spending the summers with us."
Fred and George had emerged from their bedroom; grim looks etched into their identical faces as they clutched their hearts in pain.
George gasped in pretend heart spasms, "You wouldn't want to be responsible for our deaths would you?"
"How could you be so heartless?"
Mrs. Weasley fixed the pair with a look to freeze the Sahara desert and passed Harry and Hermione their letters with pride.
They were from Hogwarts.
"Oh holy -"
"Ron!"
Held in their hands were two shiny, silver, prefect badges.
Harry shoved the badge in his pocket, whereas Hermione was looking very thoughtful, holding the badge like it was the Queen's Crown Jewels.
"You know what this means," she said, "We'll have enforce the school rules, be model students -"
"Hermione," Ron cut in, "You already are a model student."
"Well, yes, but -"
"No buts about it, you always have been,"
"And always will be." Harry finished, having finally extricated himself from the stunned reverie he'd momentarily fallen into.
Fred and George were still staring at him slack-jawed; finally, they managed to stutter,
"How, how could you?"
"You promised!"
"Traitor!"
"You two can set the table! Go!" she said, pointing a finger to the table threateningly.
*
"Are you two going to get up? Or am I going to have to owl the school and say you were too lazy to go?"
Mrs. Weasleys voice rang through Harry's subconscious like a gong at midnight. Groggily, he threw his hand out to find his glasses and cast the cover off reluctantly.
Ron was also dragging himself from dreams, and by the sounds of it, he wasn't overly happy about it either.
September the first had finally rolled around, the air outside was grasping at the autumn season, holding a faint mist above the ground.
Fishing a trainer from underneath Ron's bed, they walked in sleepy silence down the staircases, joined shortly by equally quiet Ginny and Hermione.
In the kitchen sat Fred and George eating scrambled eggs on toast, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, and two women that Harry had never seen before.
One had blonde hair cut short around her face, and the other brown hair falling to just above her shoulders.
"Nice of you to join us, I'm Arabella Figg, but if you call me that I may have to hex you, so just call me Bella, and this is Yesminda Beyan." The brown-haired woman, Bella, said when they entered.
"Yesi, only my mother calls me Yesminda."
"They're here to take you to Platform nine and three quarters." Mr. Weasley explained,
"It's a dangerous world now." Yesi said, accepting the slices of toast offered.
"You mean you think Voldemort might attack," said Harry simply, noticing how Ron still flinched at his name.
"In a word? Yes."
Hermione awoke from her stupor, "He hasn't done anything all summer, why would he start now?"
"How do you know he's been keeping quiet?" asked Bella, "By what you've read in the Prophet?"
Everyone, save Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded; their mouths full of either scrambled eggs or orange juice.
"Don't believe everything you read, kids." Yesi said, looking at the latest paper disdainfully, "According to their articles, Dumbledore is a crackpot not suitable to teach at Hogwarts, or even give his opinion. Do you believe that?"
The unanimous reply was "No."
"So why do you believe that Voldemort has done nothing but sit on his butt all summer?"
Harry blinked when she said Voldemort's name, but, when he thought about it, if they were in the Order like he suspected, it would make sense for them not to fear saying it.
Meanwhile, Hermione was agreeing with Yesi and Bella, Ron was talking to Fred and George in excited, hushed tones that Harry couldn't quite make out and motioning for Ginny to come over, they continued to speak some more, a little cloud of red haired children; when they reached a decision, they turned to Bella.
"The Ministry are telling them what to write, aren't they?" said Ron expectantly, "I mean, for a few days the Prophet was reporting on the suspected return of You-Know-Who, and they just completely changed their views, like all of a sudden."
"Good to know you lot notice things, at least you're not staring blind at your connection to the Wizard World," Bella smiled, "and to answer you question, yes, basically. Fudge decided that you, Harry, must be, I believe his words were 'delinquent juvenile looking for attention'?"
"Yeah, I think that was it." Yesi supplied.
Harry groaned, "He really doesn't like me, does he?"
"No, not really: he likes you about as much as he trusts Dumbledore."
"So not at all then?"
Yesi beamed, "Got it in one, Harry."
"Now, where was I?" Bella continued, not looking bothered at the sidetrack the conversation took.
"Fudge." Ginny offered.
"The Prophet." George said, as he started on a second helping.
"Oh yes, Fudge told the Prophet that Dumbledore was not to be trusted or listened to, and that all articles had to be approved by the Ministry before they were printed."
"Don't forget the extras -about how wonderful everything is and how the economy hasn't been effected by the rumours." said Mr. Weasley dryly, "Now, I bought everyone's trunks down last night and shrunk them," he pulled out six miniature trunks from his robes, "And by the sounds of it, the taxi's are here."
Sure enough, there was an angry honking sound from outside.
Mrs. Weasley went into override mode immediately, muttering about talking too long as she ushered everyone into jackets ad pushing another piece of buttered toast into their hands and bags with their lunches,
"Come on! We don't need you all missing the train!"
Five fun-filled minutes later, during which Fred and George, somehow, managed to sneak two suspicious looking boxes under their coats whilst Mrs. Weasley was shepherding Ginny into one of the taxies, and Crookshanks through a tantrum inside his basket. In the end, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Yesi and Mr. Weasley went in min-bus like taxi, and Ginny, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley and Bella went in the other.
"Are you an auror?" Hermione asked.
Yesi smiled, "Yes, so's Bella, and we all hate Fudge, so, we can all get along together."
The rest of the trip was uninteresting; Mr. Weasley started talking about telephones, avidly asking Harry and Hermione about them, and whether or not they thought it would be a good idea to buy one in the future; then he moved on to plugs, and Ron buried his head in his hands.
Bella went through to Platform Nine and Three Quarters first with Hermione and Ginny, then Yesi and Mr. Weasley with Harry and Ron, and at last, Fred and George with Mrs. Weasley.
"Have a good year," she said, hugging each one of her children, "And don't get in any trouble," she looked pointedly at the twins, "or looking for trouble." As she hugged Harry and Ron, then Hermione, "Study and listen to your teachers -OWL's are important."
A quick symphony of, "Yes Mrs. Weasley." and "Of course mum." before excuses were made and they all disappeared, leaving the adults to watch.
"Do you really think You-Know-Who is going to attack here, with so many people here?" Ron asked as they loaded on their fully re-sized trunks.
"No," said Harry, "But they think Deatheaters might, I bet."
"I suppose."
"Speaking of nasty things," Hermione motioned to behind Harry, where Draco Malfoy was sneering at them, his usual two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, at his sides.
"I'm surprised you're here, Potter," he sniggered, "aren't you afraid that the Dark Lord will find you."
The three friends gripped their wands.
Harry didn't hesitate in his retort -he'd had enough of Malfoy's arrogance, and this year he wouldn't take any of it,
"The only thing that frightens me, Malfoy, is your face. Besides, I thought the common thinking was that I'm a liar, Dumbledore is a crackpot, and that Voldemort isn't back. Or does your dad give you inside information on his master?"
Malfoy glared daggers, and the living boulders behind him cracked their knuckles angrily, "You aught to be careful what you say, or else -"
"Or else what, Mr. Malfoy?" Yesi had emerged from the crowd so seamlessly that none present even noticed when she arrived. Malfoy said nothing, merely sneered again, turned up his nose, and stalked off.
"Hmm, just like his damned father." she commented as the trio tucked their wands away. "Now, would you three kindly get on the train?"
The whistle blew right at that moment, and Fred pushed open a door behind them calling,
"Are you getting on, or what?"
*
As they collapsed into their trademark carriage, the scarlet red steam engine started to move, and they were on their way to another year at Hogwarts.
Harry couldn't have been happier: the only downside to being back at school was the homework that could never be dodged, and detentions that he would inevitably receive through one-way or another. On the upside, there was Quidditch, Hagrid, the massive feasts and Frequent Naps, also entitled History of Magic.
The train ride quickly dissolved into games of Exploding Snap, snacking on sweets and debating what Ron might ask for, because he still hadn't decided, and was still feeling guilty about the money issue.
It wasn't long before Neville nervously peeped around the door into their compartment and timidly requested if he could sit with them, because the others were full. They, of course, obliged, only to watch the round-faced boy jump up a moment later,
"Trevor!" His pet toad croaked angrily from his back pocket, after being sat on and nearly squashed to death, Harry didn't blame it, and jumped onto the floor by Hermione's feet.
Ginny was the next late arrival, having spent a few hours with her age-mates, she felt it was time to sit with her other friends, and closer to a certain boy of her dreams. She also had a message for Harry and Hermione,
"They want you two in the Prefects carriage for ten minutes, something about passwords…"
Harry rose slowly, not entirely sure if all these Prefect duties were a good thing -he didn't want to have to be going to meetings when he could be practising Quidditch or messing about with Ron.
Thankfully, it didn't last long -literally, all that happened was that the Head Girl and Boy gave Hermione and he the password for Gryffindor Tower, and a 'well done' for being made Prefects, and they left -only to see a certain Draco Malfoy swagger up to the compartment with Pansy Parkinson, both already in their school robes and both proudly showing off their shined-to-optimum-shininess Prefect badges.
Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and left as quickly as possible without smashing into anything, muttering under his breath, "That's just not right -you know he's going to use the power to be horrible to every other house."
"But there's nothing we can do about it, Harry, so just breathe, please?"
They thumped back into their seats, quickly filling all present in on the new password and terrible turn out of events in regard to Malfoy. Ron was disgusted, and expressed so in several words not appropriate to be repeated, and which made Hermione reach over and put a hand over his mouth.
It was at that moment that lunch was announced by the rattling of four small wheels and two click-clacking feet.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" said the elderly witch that pushed the food trolley stacked with delicious sweets like Cauldron Cakes, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties. Knowing full well that Ron had a bottomless pit in place of where his stomach should be, and that he, Harry, did enjoy anything sweet (he, personally, blamed a certain tooth), he bought at least five of everything on the trolley, to supplement Ron, Hermione's and his Corned beef (actually, Ron had Turkey) sandwiches.
When Neville was munching on a Pumpkin Pasty, and Ginny on an Ice mouse, and while Harry was partway through what tasted like a broccoli bean, Ron finished his fifth part of his meal (so far it consisted of two Cauldron Cakes, one Ice mouse, and two Turkey sandwiches)
"Where're those Chocolate Frogs? Pass us one Neville, cheers… It might be Agrippa, I still need her…"
"Honestly, Ron."
"What?" he asked his mouth now full of a Chocolate Frog.
"Manners."
"Why? I'm not a Prefect, and anyway, how else would you eat a 'Frog? With a knife and fork, or what?"
As was predictable, the entire compartment burst into uncontrollable bouts of laughter, either at what Ron had said, or the Look Hermione sent his way.
"Come on you two," said Ginny when she managed to regain her breath, "Don't start bickering now -school hasn't even started yet. Give Harry a chance, at least."
Harry decided to add his own two pence worth, "Yeah, give me a chance."
"You do get at each others throats sometimes." Neville piped up.
Any further admonishments or arguments were cut off Ron choking on the Chocolate Frog.
Several hours, games of Exploding Snap, Gobstones and I Spy later, a voice reverberated around the train, "Arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in ten minutes."
And none of them were in their school robes. Oh dear, thought Harry. The problem was easily solved, the girls left the carriage while the boys got changed, and the boys obligingly waited outside while the girls switched clothes.
The train pulled to a stop in the station with a muffled 'thud', and Harry made his way out.
Another year with Snape hating him because he and his father hated each other. Things could be worse; the evilest and most dangerous wizard in the world could want him dead.
Oh wait, he did.
He shook his head, since when did he get so sarcastic anyway?
"Harry?" Hermione questioned, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he looked up above everybody's heads, expecting to see the large form of his friend Hagrid, who was actually a half-giant and not so big simply because he swallowed a bottle of Skele-Grow when he was a kid (as Ron had thought), only to find that he was strangely missing. Harry blinked and re-checked, however unlikely it was that he had missed him, but only found Professor McGonagalls pointed hat instead.
"First Years this way!" cried Professor McGonagall, holding a lantern aloft, "First Years over here!"
The trio looked at each other, all thinking the same thing but not actually voicing it until they were in a carriage with somebody they didn't know.
"Where is he?" asked Ron, "You don't think…" he trailed off, realising they were in unknown company.
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. The 'hope he's alright' was a given. Now he had Hagrid to add to the least of people to worry about -as if Sirius wasn't enough, what with being an escaped ex-convict who was facing the Dementor's Kiss as soon as he was re-captured, which involved having your soul sucked out. Not pleasant. Now he had a missing Big Friendly Half-Giant to add to his list too. As well as the OWL's. Fun.
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Post A/N: *muah ha* it was the Prefect thing i couldn't decide on -first it was hermione and harry, then it was hermione and ron, then it was hermione and neville, and then it was hermione and ron.... until i decided on a later part of a certain plot and stuck with hermione and harry.
waddya think? like it? hate it? indifferent to it?